Ironside: WHN Trip to Hashbury
by Mounty Swiss
Summary: Eve's POV: All the Chief and Mark had to say right after that affair was, "Nice weather for ducks!" There was more though. (Set March 1968)
1. Chapter 1

_Eve's POV:  
>All the Chief and Mark had to say right after that affair was, "Nice weather for ducks!"<br>There was more though. (Set March 1968)  
><em>

I was happily humming the newest Bee Gees' hit on my way to work. It was a very pleasant spring morning, like freshly cleaned after last night's rain. I was wearing a new dress, and I loved my work, my boss and my co-workers. There was in particular Chief Robert T. Ironside, brilliant, gruff, successful... He had encouraged me to join the police. Everybody in the department seemed to be a little afraid of him, but I knew that behind his grizzly bear attitude there beat a wonderful, caring heart. At one point I had thought that there might be more between us than just liking - and then he was shot. After that, he seemed to downright hide behind a wall of grumpiness, as if he had to prove his independence. Paralyzed, he didn't want to retain me... as if I would have felt retained! Suddenly everything became very complicated. In the meantime he had managed to build a wonderful team. If we had been a family he would have been the wise, if exigent father. Ed Brown would be the reliable, yet insecure first-born, myself the cherished, somewhat spoiled only girl and Mark Sanger the witty, defiant youngest. We all had become friends, although we were coming from totally different backgrounds. Together we were trying to make San Francisco a little safer... and to keep our beloved Chief out of trouble. Both tasks were rather hopeless endeavors, but much more satisfying than fluttering from party to party and from beauty shop to social event as a society girl.

It looked as if for the time being our problems were solved. Oh, I didn't mean that crime in San Francisco had stopped or that the Chief would sit still for more than a few hours in a row. I only meant that some personal cases, which had been very burdensome, were cleared up. Only a month ago I had shot a very young criminal, and my heart still cramped when I thought of him, but the Chief had helped me come to terms with that. Ironside himself had fallen in love with an amnesiac, Barbara. Her family had been found and a little boy, Bobby, who was virtually dropped into his lap, seemed to have helped him take his mind off her. The last sorrow had been Ed, who was accused of using excessive force against a runaway girl in Hashbury. Ed Brown, our square, straight Sergeant! Well, fortunately Ironside had managed to clear him.

I opened the door to Ironside's office-apartment and my cheerfulness vanished within a second. I heard Commissioner Randall's voice, and it sounded colder than ever.

"Bob, it's _your_ job to find Thompson! _Your_ Sergeant let him get away, and obviously he isn't capable of catching him on his own, therefore it's _your_ responsibility!"

Walking down the ramp I saw Ironside nod somberly. "Since about every difficult police job is my job there's no reason why someone else should ever help me with one of mine, is there, Commissioner?" he asked acerbically.

Randall raised his voice. "You know that we are hopelessly understaffed. Just do it, will you? We need Thompson."

"Yes, it doesn't matter if Thompson is guilty or not!" shouted Ironside. "You just need someone to blame, same as you needed Ed Brown when Barbara Chase died, right?"

"I knew that you would have the last word again!"

"How was I to know that you would have nothing more to say?!"

Nodding a very short "good morning" towards me the Commissioner left stiffly.

Ironside brooded over this newest turn of events.

"How could Ed lose a suspect?" he asked me. "And such an important one? He followed a hint we had got from Charley Yager."

Charley was an informant, a small underworld man with big ears and a big open hand when it came to selling information.

"Charley said that he heard rumors about an infamous hitman who is supposed to be back in town; Charley knew no name, only that he might plan an attempt on 'someone with ambitions'; plus he had an address - a certain Chad Thompson's address. We have no idea who the target is. There are so many people with political ambitions. Every spare officer is on this case. I sent Ed to interrogate Thompson, and he just ran away."

"You sent Ed out to catch him _last night_?" My co-worker had just been cleared of a murder charge. He had still been worn out emotionally and physically last evening.

"Of course he hasn't slept much while being the main suspect of killing Barbara Chase until a few days ago." He snorted. "Ed Brown and police brutality! It was downright ridiculous. But one could expect that the man would have recovered within a night or two, right?"

The Chief's voice was as gruff as ever, but suddenly I understood that there had been a reason why he had sent Ed out last night. I had the feeling that he wanted me to understand his motives, whereas he would never have revealed that much to Ed or Mark: he wanted to show Ed that he still was his number one, even after all the suspicions and speculations about beating up Barbara Chase. He wanted Ed to let this behind him by assigning him to the next important case – a threat on a politician - immediately. No way would he admit that openly though.

Interrupting my reasoning the culprit entered, his head hanging. The scratches on his cheek which he had got from Barbara had almost faded away.

"What's your excuse, Sergeant?!" asked Ironside instead of a welcome.

"News _does_ travel fast in this house," Ed pointed out somberly.

In spite of my love and admiration for the Chief I felt the need to defend my coworker. "Everybody is entitled to a mistake every now and then, aren't they? Chief, you keep telling us not to make snap judgments."

The Sergeant shook his head. "No, Eve. He's right. It was my fault. I should have managed to stop Thompson and bring him downtown for questioning. I was just too slow."

"How could that happen? You are supposed to be one of the best athletes in the department, an ex-marine and above all a member of _my_ staff. _How can you let a physically average guy get away?!" _

Again I had to think that Ironside bawled him out, it was true, but at the same time he showed him more appreciation than when everything went smoothly. Our Chief was really one of a kind! I could just hope that Ed would perceive more than the harsh sound of his voice.  
>It turned out that he didn't.<p>

"I'm sorry."

"That helps a lot! And what do you intend to do to find him now?"

Ed dropped his tired frame onto the next chair. Only a few days ago he had done exactly the same in a very similar situation – being accused – only this time he _was_ guilty. He didn't seem to have any ideas on how to go on.

"Ok, how did you find him the first time?" probed the Chief.

Ed looked as if his thoughts were swimming through molasses.

"At home. He lives on Dolores Street. But there was a neighbor..."

"Name?!"

"Something with S..."

"The name, Sergeant!"

"Sarah – Sarah Rhodes."

"Go question her!"

My colleague didn't move.

"What are you waiting for?!"

"I remember..."

"What?"

"She said – she said that he goes out to the same bar almost every night..."

"Sergeant, you can do better than that!"

Slowly, with the help of the Chief's questions, my friend found his way back into his profession.

"I'll try the bar tonight. Please let me attend Barbara Chase's funeral first. It's in an hour."

Ironside grunted something probably affirmative and Ed left.

I followed him with my eyes. His movements had always been controlled and careful, now even more so than normally – almost hesitant. For a second my thoughts switched to the James Bond movie "You Only Live Twice" I had seen the night before. What a difference between the unflinching, tough movie hero Sean Connery and my friend Ed Brown! But with all Connery's handsomeness and verve I still liked our modest sergeant. I just wished he would get back to his calm self.

I had to stay in the office for a thorough background check on Thompson. Not knowing what exactly I was looking for I found nothing really incriminating. Thompson had no gun license and no criminal record, just a hint on some rebellious activities as a teenager. He hadn't even done any military service. I could not see any prod to violence.

I reported to Ironside. "The big question is: if he has nothing to hide – why run?"

Thoughtfully the Chief answered, "Ed's picture was big enough in the newspapers when he was accused of police brutality. The small note that he turned out to be innocent may easily have been overlooked. Maybe when he showed his badge Thompson recognized him. I suppose he ran out of fear of being mistreated."

It made me very sad. So much harm could be done by spreading rumors!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Later that day, to our astonishment Patty Larson walked down the ramp, the teenage girl who had accused Ed of having beaten up Barbara Chase.

Talking to the Chief a few days ago had helped her establish a better relationship with her parents.

But today she looked at least as upset as when she had been forced to talk to him. "Sir, something has gone totally wrong."

"Hello, Patty. Sit down." The Chief's voice was friendly. Patty had turned out to be a basically honest, if truculent girl. We had been very thankful when she came out with the truth: So many teenagers lied to their parents about taking drugs and going to places like "Freddie's", probably also Barbara Chase. It had been the first step towards clearing Ed.

"What went wrong, Patty? Something with your parents? Or classmates?"

Ironside thought of the many youngsters who got into drugs. I knew that it cracked him up.

"No. I was at Barbara's funeral. There I saw your Sergeant Brown." She hesitated.

"Go ahead!"

"It was after the ceremony. Most people had already left. I stayed at the grave a little longer, thinking that it could have been me lying in there. Then I went towards the exit gate. There your Sergeant was talking to another man. I could not hear what he said to him."  
>She seemed to think hard about what she had seen and heard and what was just in her imagination. She had learned her lesson. "The man pushed Sgt. Brown away. Your officer almost lost his balance and caught the man's arm. Then Mr. Chase walked by. He said something like, 'Still the same problem, Sergeant? One day I will get you for police brutality.'"<p>

Again the girl hesitated. Ironside and I were all ears now.

"Then the other man attacked your Sergeant. He didn't defend himself at first. He stood there like petrified, and his face bore a shocked expression. The man took a swing at him. Then he ran away, towards the forest. The Sergeant followed him, and he was pressing his hand onto his stomach."

Tears started to flow down her face. She was still very young after all – only fifteen.

"It's my fault, isn't it? I started the whole thing. When I saw you, Miss Whitfield, and him, at "Freddie's" the other day I thought that Sgt. Brown had beaten up Barbara. I hadn't seen him do it, but I accused him anyway, just because it seemed to be that way to me. And now Mr. Chase has done the same. But I have seen it well, Mr. Brown hasn't done anything. But I think he got hurt because he was afraid of doing something wrong..."

Suddenly I understood what had happened. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Ed was overtired and insecure, too slow to catch Thompson, and now maybe injured because he didn't dare do his job out of fear of being too rough on somebody – or out of sheer fear of being _accused_ of being too rough.

The Chief was probably as worried about Ed as I was, but he knew that he had to stay calm. Otherwise he would upset the girl even more. "Yes, we have a big responsibility in what we say about others. But you were honest the first time and that way you helped us put things right. Now you want to help again. I'm very thankful for that."

She swallowed. "He's anxious now. That's very dangerous for a cop, isn't it?"

It was exactly what we feared right now.

I could not hold my tongue, "Chief, we can't leave Ed alone out there!"

"And what do you think we will accomplish if we just drive out to the cemetery? Where do you want us to start looking for him?"

He was right, as most of the time.

While I tried to reach Ed by car phone – with no result – he asked, "Patty, can you describe the man who attacked Sgt. Brown?"

"I'm not that good at this kind of things... He was about mid-thirties, had black hair and he looked like a football player. He wore a black suit, but then everybody at the funeral wore black suits."

This didn't sound like Thompson. Thompson was red-haired and of normal built.

Patty agreed to take a look at the mugshots. I took her down to headquarters. Soon she pointed at a picture of a fugitive who was accused of murder, Ralph King.

"That's the one."

I was a little excited. "Are you sure?"

"Yes Ma'am, I am. I noticed that strange hair curl he has on the left side."

"Thank you, Patty. You helped us a lot."

She nodded and left: a young girl who had found out that what she did was important for others.

* * *

><p>"Even if we know who Ed's enemy is we still can't help him!" I complained to the Chief. "This man is a killer, and Ed is afraid of defending himself!"<p>

Ironside shook his head. "At least we know where to start looking."

"How? King has been on the run for two years now. We have no idea where to look for him! Shouldn't we try to find Thompson instead?"

"Him too, but I doubt that Thompson had anything to do with the entire case."

I must have looked rather confused. Our entire problem had started with Thompson running and Ed not catching him! How could the Chief say...

"Go back downstairs and get me the file on Ralph King's brother, Liam King. He's been in prison for two years for robbing a jeweler."

"What's that got to do with Ed?"

"Just go get the file. And if you want to help Ed I suggest you hurry!"

Hurry I did. I made it downstairs and back in record time. Questioningly I turned the file over to Ironside.  
>He opened it. He seemed to know exactly what he was looking for.<p>

"Read this!" he ordered, giving one of the sheets to me.

I obeyed. "I don't believe this! Liam King must have lived next door to Thompson!" I still didn't know what the Chief was getting at, but I realized that there was a connection between the King brothers and Thompson which might be important.

"You better believe it. And here I have the address where we have to start looking. It's Eldon Chase, our reputable lawyer. He was the attorney of the jeweler Liam King has robbed – or is alleged to have robbed. I remember that I found it highly questionable that Liam had actually been there. He was convicted anyway, mostly due to Chase's sleeky way of accusing him. However there was not much of a doubt that Ralph King murdered the jeweler's wife, but he escaped. Liam was released a few weeks ago. He died last week, maybe of an illness he caught in prison.  
>What if Ralph wanted to take revenge of Chase? What if whistle-blower Charley's address didn't mean Thompson, but the King brothers? Liam lived next door to Thompson and Ralph is a known killer."<p>

"You mean – the address the whistleblower gave the police wasn't meant to be Thompson's to begin with?"

"The Kings sound more plausible, don't they?"

"Then what are we waiting for, Chief?!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Then what are we waiting for, Chief?"

"Since the boys are not available, you will have to drive the paddy wagon!"

Driving out to Eldon Chase's house I saw from a distance two persons in his garden. A shot rang out. Coming closer I saw that one was slender, the other brawny... they were fighting... the brawny one threw the slender one towards a tree... and then what I had feared turned out to be true: the man with his back to the tree was Ed Brown. I stopped the truck and opened the door to jump out.

"Wait!" commanded the Chief.

I heard a voice from the veranda – Chase's, "Damn, the police are never where you need them!"

I felt cold rage rising within me. The man had no idea of what harm he had caused by treating Ed like a criminal!

Now I saw that the attorney was standing on his veranda. He seemed to catch sight of what exactly was happening in his garden. The attacker had turned Ed around and was now pressing a rifle in his back. Chase wanted to withdraw into his house, but it was too late. "Stay right where you are or I will kill you a second after this grasshopper here! You are right in my line of fire," shouted King.

"Stay here," whispered Ironside. "Right now you won't achieve anything except getting yourself killed." He pulled the microphone out of its holder and in a low, but very authoritative voice ordered backup.

I hid behind the truck and glanced at the scene in the garden. What did the attacker want? He could easily do as he had announced: kill both Ed and Chase, or kill only Chase and get away with Ed as a hostage. There was nothing we could do about it.

The only one who might be able to intervene was Ed himself. The brawny man was standing close to him... too close for his own good, if one could rely on the handbook for close combat. Of course it would have been a big risk, but the Ed Brown I knew might have been able to fight back. It would depend on how much strength Ed had left. Had he been hurt seriously at the cemetery? And then - the other man had beaten him before already. He had to be much stronger than my colleague. Yet Ed could not just stand there and do nothing!

Ironside seemed to come to the same conclusion. He started to negotiate – probably in the first place to distract King in order to give Ed a chance to break free. "What do you want, King? What do you expect to achieve by killing these two men? I'm Robert Ironside. I'm sure you have heard of me. I will chase you to the end of the world if you do it."

"I don't want to kill your boy, Ironside, but I will if I have to. It's that pig Chase who needs killing..."

He didn't get any further. Ed used his chance. Also true to the textbook he turned around and knocked the rifle away with his arm, then grabbed it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Chase disappear into his house. A real hero! I was only interested in the fight in the garden though. King tried to get the rifle back in his control, but Ed's grip was too firm. Then King took a swing at him and Ed went down, letting go of the rifle. King fled towards the forest.

Resolutely I ran towards the garden, ignoring Ironside's demand to be careful.

As long as King was running he would not shoot or at any rate not hit.

Ed pulled his gun and turned on his stomach. In this position he fired at the fleeing attacker, who at the same second threw the rifle away. The bullet hit home. With my own gun in aiming position I headed for King. Ed picked himself up, stumbled, but didn't give up. I reached King first. He was clasping his right shoulder, trying in vain to stop the bleeding. I kicked the rifle out of his reach. Between clenched teeth he uttered towards Ed, "Aren't you the pig accused of police brutality? Well, this time you will get it. I was unarmed when you shot me, and I haven't done anything!"

"I very much doubt that!" It was Ironside, who had rolled by in his chair. I wondered how he had done it on the uneven ground. "King, you are under arrest for the murder of Betty Rollins, the jeweler's wife. And I saw that you were armed when Sgt. Brown shot at you."

A howling siren interrupted him. Two of our colleagues were showing up – as usual a little late, missing all the action.

"Book him!" barked Ironside. "The police doctor can take a look at his shoulder in prison."

When they had driven off with the hitman Ed explained that King had joined him after the funeral as if he wanted to ask him something. Probably they had recognized each other at the same instant and it came to a little run-in with Ed on the receiving end. Yet Ed had been able to follow King from the cemetery to Chase's house. There he had managed to deflect the rifle when King had shot at Chase.

"He must have been lurking for Chase at the cemetery already. Since he used a rifle he sure intended to shoot him from a distance," said our boss.

Ed nodded. He pressed my hand but addressed Ironside, "Thanks, Chief."

I understood what he meant. Ed knew that he would not have got off without us – and even less would he have managed to overcome his fear of being too rough on someone without Ironside's support.

Our boss looked straight into Ed's face. "You aimed at his right arm, didn't you? You wanted to miss his heart at any cost. You risked missing him entirely!"

There was a trace of defiance in Ed's voice, "I didn't miss him, did I?"

Ironside frowned. I expected a sharp reply. Gently I laid my hand on his arm. He threw a quick glance up at me. He had got my message: That in my opinion Ed didn't need a dressing down now. Ed had needed his guidance in this case, and badly. For a time I hadn't been sure if he would make it out of the dark hole he had let himself be maneuvered into by Chase and others. We all needed Ironside's support to develop our possibilities. He was our master, the best teacher one could have, and more. But right now I thought that Ed could not cope with any more lectures. He had just overcome his block in view of 'police brutality'. Wasn't this enough for one day?

Probably it was no use trying to get Ironside to be less rough on Ed. In a similar situation he had told me to 'stop improving his character'.

To my surprise he let me have my way this time – or, more likely, he had come to the same conclusion. He nodded. His voice sounded a lot softer than usual. "No, you didn't. Let's go home. Are you hurt, Ed?"

My colleague was confused. He wasn't used to any visible affection from our boss, who was usually a tad more severe towards him than towards anyone else. "No, Sir... I'm fine."

"Yes, I know you are. You could not have done that stunt if you were not. But I want you to have a good night's rest. If you think that I'll let you go on and then call in sick because there was an aftermath to those punches you took, then you are dead wrong. There's a lot of work to do which remained undone while you were busy correcting your errors!"

Slowly a grin spread over Ed's face. This was the tone he could handle.

* * *

><p>When I entered the office the next morning, Ed was sitting at the octagonal table with a newspaper in hand. The headline read, "<strong>Candidate to California State Senate threatened!<strong> "

I hadn't even known that Chase was a candidate for the Senate.  
>The article pointed out, "The police knew about the threat against Eldon Chase, but did nothing to protect him."<p>

Would Ed crush the paper like a few days ago when it said that he was accused of police brutality?

"Chief, we have to tell Chase what he did to Ed with his wrong accusations!" I suggested.

Ed shook his head. "Let it be. He has suffered enough."

Quietly the Chief agreed, "He knows, Eve. He knows."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

Lemonpig did a great job correcting this story, as usual. Thank you!

You, my faithful readers and reviewers, give me the encouragement I need to write on. Thank you as well!


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